Anything and Everything is a chair
by BakaMoyashi-chan
Summary: There is crime everywhere, some of it extremely hard to solve. Unless you are the great Sherlock Holmes. Though sometimes he gets impatient and just feels the need to sit down, so he does on whatever is closest. Crack fic mostly. Major hints at Johnlock with a small bit of swearing.


**Hello readers. I am Bakamoyashi-chan, or Baka-chan for short. This is just a fun little crack ficlet that one of my friends encouraged me to write. (For my loyal readers you probably know who I am talking about). No point in rambling for me so proceed on through the little required blurps onto the story.**

**Warning: Heavy hints of Johnlock, extremely heavy. A few bits of swearing as well.**

**Disclaimer: I am neither Goyle, Gattiss, or Moffat, so I do not own the wonder that is Sherlock Holmes or Sherlock.**

**(P.S. If you guys like there is a possibility of a sequel. Once you read it tell me if you would like to know what happened before Lestrade learned to wait.)**

* * *

Lestrade bounded up the stairs, stopping in front of the door that lead to the flat of the infamous consulting detective and his loyal blogger. Carefully he pressed an ear to the door, listening in on what was happening. He didn't dare just burst forth into the room because the last time he did so things had gotten fairly... awkward. All he heard were the melodic sounds of Sherlock's Stradivarius so he entered the room. The music ended with an abrupt screech and Lestrade had the full force of the awing, but uncomfortable, attention of the great Sherlock Holmes focused solely on him, which would cause a normal person to shift around with the utmost discomfort, but as it was a common occurrence for Lestrade he was quite used to it.

"Hello." Lestrade said more for his benefit than Sherlock's, "there's been a murder, we could really use your help."

"Where?" Sherlock asked, immediately sitting up straighter and putting down his beautiful instrument.

"Hyde Park, body was found near the south east end of The Serpentine. Body was found just this morning by someone taking an early stroll. Its not a pretty sight." Lestrade answered, adding facts that weren't asked for but the detective would want. "So will you come?"

Barely contained excitement danced across Sherlock's face and yet when he spoke he sounded calm, "yes of course. John and I will be right behind you."

Lestrade nodded and left, knowing all other talk would fall on deaf ears now that Sherlock had a case to puzzle over.

-x-

"Come along John we have a murder to solve!" Sherlock shouted down the hall in the direction of the bathroom.

John, who had known a new case had come in when he heard pounding on the stairs, was already fully dressed and ready to so as to avoid being dragged out of the flat in nothing but his red pants... again.

With an air of great excitement Sherlock practically ran from the flat, his faithful doctor in tow. It was a simple task to hail a cab for Sherlock had limbs that seemed to go on for miles and were easily noticed by cabbies. With some words and a 'casual' tip of money the duo found themselves speeding along to the location of the murder, or as John thought of it, the thing that would stop Sherlock from destroying the flat in because he was bored.

Upon arrival Sherlock shot from the cab like a bullet, leaving John to, once again, pay for the cab.

In the time it took John to pay for the cab and walk over to the mass of officers Sherlock was already whipping around the body, looking at it from different angles and distances. When John had finally reached the body Sherlock's attention centered on him as it often did right before he...

"John as a doctor what do you believe to be the cause of death." Sherlock questioned. Clearly he already knew but he enjoyed watching John show off his medical knowledge.

Knowing full well he couldn't get away with just telling Sherlock that he didn't need his opinion John knelt down next to the body of the poor women that had been pulled from the lake. He began to do various checks to determine the final cause of death, along with various injuries and the time they happened.

Impatiently Sherlock sat flopped down, using the nearest thing as a chair, which just happened to be the kneeling John. "So doctor, cause of death?"

John stiffened underneath Sherlock. Red painted his cheeks and he turned his head slightly to growl at Sherlock. "I'll be the cause of your death if you don't get the hell off of me."

Sherlock smirked, carefully he laid back so he was spread across John, his mouth near John's ear. "That's not what you were saying last night."

* * *

**There you go, that is it. I do hope you enjoyed it, I also hope you will review. Bye!**


End file.
